


finally breaking; i need you to breathe

by Brie (Kura)



Series: Let The World Know [11]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Smackdown fallout (7/25/2014), Some kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2056254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kura/pseuds/Brie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'You want my <i>forgiveness</i>? Fine, have it. Tuck yourself in bed with it. Spread it out on the sheets and roll around in it to your heart's desire. Breathe it in, get off on it, I don't fucking care.' Well, that was awesome. They should do this more often, it really helps calming the waves. Great bonding activity. </p><p>He can't help but huff a bit annoyed. Seth was trying to sincerely apologize for freaking out like that and all Dean does is make fun of him. He so doesn't need that tonight. Maybe he should go back to his dressing room and watch the end of Roman's match. </p><p>It certainly beats listening to Dean pulling his leg. He turns around, ready to leave his idiotic brother behind without a goodbye – <i>yeah, experience first hand how awful that feels, jerk</i> – when warm fingers wrap themselves around his own. 'I can't forgive you.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	finally breaking; i need you to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Thanks to all of you who are still here with me. I wish I could hug all of you personally! So, this turned into a tiny monster again, but the next part is a tiny one because it's - surprise, surprise - written from a character's point of view that is not part of The Shield. So, I'm pretty exhausted and don't know what else to say. Other than have fun reading this <3

What a disastrous and horrible night.

First Cesaro tries to weasel his way further into the Authority because he broke up with Paul – and who the heck ever said that there can't be two Heyman guys at the same time? – and then Seth goes out there to attack Dean like he was supposed to, just to end up almost decimating him, unintentionally challenging the Swiss to some _who can finish Ambrose off better_ game.

What was that guy even thinking, giving Dean the Neutralizer? Dean is his, and his alone, no matter how many times Triple H will order some bald moron around to take care of the unfinished business. Seth thinks he's made it pretty clear in the past that he wants to be the one dealing with his brother.

Cesaro is a riddle Seth can't solve and it's frustrating him to no end. He can't assess the other's motives, but Seth knows for sure that he cannot trust him. Even Kane has agreed with him on that.

With the Swiss around it's also not as easy to manipulate everyone of the Authority anymore as it used to be. Seth feels like all his hard work from the past two months just got eradicated. He's back to where he began. His only advantage is Kane, who's one of the best allies Seth could have ever asked for.

That man seriously earned himself an upgrade from the weird and creepy uncle to a valuable and welcome godparent. But that also reminds him of the simple fact that Seth still has to soften up the Undertaker.

He groans loudly, pulling at his hair until it hurts, and sags down on the bench in the locker room of the Authority, happily noticing that Cesaro's stuff is already gone.

Well, at least Taker's phone number and home address are in his hands already. That part was the easy one. All it took was some snooping around in Stephanie's office in the McMahon-Helmsley mansion during one of their monthly dinners while he said he had to go to the bathroom real quick.

Technically, the only thing Seth needs to do now is drive there and talk face to face to the man. If he's being completely honest with himself, he's considering taking Dean with him, to have someone backing him up in case anything goes wrong.

He puts on the gray Authority shirt for the time being and pulls out his family phone after making sure there is no one in the hall who will enter the room in the next few minutes. If he would have known what kind of messages await him, he'd have read them in the safety of his hotel room.

There are four texts from Roman, each one feeling like his brother stabs a dagger into his heart with brute force. Of course he wouldn't be able to let this go, being the protective and caring person he is. Seth had just hoped that they would discuss this together some time later, so that he could come up with an explanation as to why he did and said that shit to his brother in the ring.

_if you hurt dean i am gonna kill you_  
_i do not care who you are_  
_i will murder you_  
_believe that_

He gets it. Seth deserves all the heat in the world, all the hatred for delivering the _when are you gonna learn to die_ line. He now realizes that it was way over the top. As was the overall attack. He honestly can't say what happened out there. Seth had just spaced out and kicked Dean in the face once, twice, once more and then again and again, almost beheading him.

He wasn't even particularly angry or anything, no, he just snapped. This whole Cesaro debacle is giving him a serious headache and makes him jittery, which automatically leads to fuck ups and grave mistakes.

Lashing out at Dean like this was not planned. Begging his brother to finally bite the dust apparently hasn't only aggravated and scared Seth, it also pissed off the big hound. He has a lot of fixing to do. Again. God, when will this end?

Seth takes a look at his watch, only needing two seconds to decide to search for Roman and Dean right now, so he can settle this before it grows into something too big for him to handle. Roman's match starts in maybe five minutes, so he needs to move fast.

Which is kind of hard, because his knee is still acting up, but he wobbles around backstage anyway, trying to find the one hiding spot his brothers chose for that night. After spending their time in the locker room for a while, they've realized they want to be left alone rather than being together with people they can't really stand.

All three of them are more comfortable when they're either alone or together with the few ones they actually do like.

While he limps around as fast as he can, Seth types away a message, hoping to hear Roman's ringtone going off in the distance, so he can follow the sound.

_I would never hurt him. I mean, you know, other than the stuff I have to do on camera for Trip._

He has no such luck.

Seth prays silently that this is enough to convince Roman, because it's definitely not good enough to make him feel better. He knows he's crossed a line tonight, has lost his shit in front of the whole world because all of this is too much for him, because he's at the end of his rope.

Because Cesaro is about to take his brother and his position in the Authority away from him and he can't let that happen.

Taking it out on none other than Dean was a big mistake though. His friend has done nothing wrong, has just accepted the challenge the Authority threw his way and once again proved to all of them that he can overcome everything. People always tend to claim Dean Ambrose is crazy, that he needs to be put to rest because he's one Curb Stomp away from losing it.

Tonight though, Seth showed the whole world that Dean is not the weak one. No, it's him. He couldn't handle the pressure anymore, has seen red all of a sudden and ruthlessly attacked his own flesh and blood – well, you know – to a point he didn't even recognize himself anymore.

His phone beeps and he looks down at the display, wincing when he sees his fingers still shaking violently, as if they're afraid that Seth will command them once more to assault the one person they wanna hold close for the rest of eternity.

_i have to get ready for my match  
just promise me you will not take this any further than that_

He really wishes he could. But what happened tonight... it might happen again. He's losing the control over himself and his actions, which makes him even more insecure and uncertain. Truth be told, he's fucking scared of himself right now and he needs, more than anything, to talk to Dean, feel safe again, at _home_ and only his brother can give this to him.

Seth yearns for forgiveness for all the things he did tonight, for what might take place in the future. Because one day, he may not be able to stop himself. He just has to believe that someone – hopefully Roman – will intervene if that ever happens.

_Rome, I can't. I have to do what I have to do.  
But I swear to you that I'll look out for him._

That is, as long as his brain is still working at full capacity. Tonight he blacked out; the only thing echoing in his head a deafening contact noise that drowned out any other sounds. His eyes had solely been focused on Dean until his brother was lying on the canvas, breathing heavily, unable to move.

He expects Roman to write something along the lines of _Don't bullshit me, you weren't yourself tonight. I can't leave Dean in your hands anymore. You can't keep him safe, so stay the fuck away from my family, you crazy son of a bitch_. But that doesn't sound like his big brother, does it?

No, that's what Seth is thinking right now, what a snarky little voice in his head is telling him in an endless loop. And it's absolutely right. He has become a danger to his brother – _he_ , the one who sacrifices everything to be the other's shield.

Roman doesn't text back, because either he's already on the way to the ring or just too fed up with his lies and empty promises to even think about ever talking to him again.

Seth sighs tiredly and rounds a corner, already completely lost, when he bumps into someone. He's close to shouting at the guy for not paying attention – not that he did either, but at least he has a good explanation – when he looks up and recognizes a very familiar set of blue eyes.

Of all the people he could have run into, he crossed paths with Dean; the only person he actually _wants_ to see right now. There's a thick bandage covering his brother's shoulder and chest, the bright white almost blinding Seth while a new wave of nausea and guilt washes over him.

Dean is – apart from the bandages – walking around shirtless, the wife-beater long gone. The sight is doing things to Seth he can't deal with at the moment. He needs to stay focused, because running into his friend was some twist of fate and he can't let that opportunity pass by because he was too busy ogling Dean.

Seems like his brother has just walked out of the medical staff zone, surprise written all over his face. And no matter how much time Seth gives him to change that into a scowl or frown; it never happens.

Dean looks him in the eyes for the longest time, pupils dilating ever so slightly, before Seth can't take it anymore. He doesn't care where they are, who they're supposed to be, how much he's stepping out of his role right now. If he won't apologize to his brother, he'll never be able to live with himself again.

'I'm sorry, man. I have no idea what happened out there,' he whispers urgently, pushing Dean around the corner and into a dimly lit area of the arena. His brother never once breaks the eye contact, watching Seth with an expression that he can only describe as, well, as _adoration_.

It's freaking him out a bit, because Dean should be furious, should raise his voice at him how he dare threaten his life, what the heck Cesaro is up to and why Seth can't put the King of Swing on a very tight leash, why he lost his grip on reality out there and tried to stomp off Dean's head.

His best friend shouldn't look at him as if Seth is the most important thing in the world, as if he hung the moon and stole the stars for him. There's a fire in Dean's eyes that scares Seth, a passion he has never seen before lighting up the blue irises.

Seth backs away a few steps, hands still lingering on his brother's arms, fingertips running gingerly over the muscles, as if his body doesn't want to let go of whatever spellbinding moment they're sharing.

'Dean?' he croaks out, voice trembling as much as his fingers. His friend won't stop looking at him though and his gaze turns even warmer and more longing than Seth can withstand. He's one blink away from pushing Dean against the wall to just take him, to devour his friend here and now.

Not only to escape that intense, way too soulful staring contest, but also to quiet down the burning desire setting his veins on fire ever since he ran into Dean a few seconds ago. Well, quite frankly, ever since he admitted to himself that he was head over heels for his brother.

It's like the whole world slows down around them, all the noise around them disappears until there's only Seth's rabbiting heartbeat and their ragged breathing left. His brain is once again zeroing in on Dean's face, trying to figure out why his brother looks at him like he's everything he's been searching for his entire life. Like he finally understood without a shadow of a doubt where he belongs.

It's breathtakingly beautiful and intimidating at the same time. Just like all these weeks ago, when Seth could see it in Dean's face that he finally came to the decision to let Seth in, to allow himself to love someone. It frightened him the first time and it's making him want to make a run for it now too.

He's totally disappointed by himself because he thought after everything they've been through, he'd be prepared for this, that he would even welcome Dean's devotion. Instead it just suffocates him.

Seth isn't able to get his face under control – doesn't even think about it in this very moment –, so of course Dean gets wind of his hesitation and fear. His brother's gaze turns stone cold in the blink of an eye and his hands get churlishly pushed away, but that doesn't stop Seth from reaching out once more.

He wants to show Dean that he _is_ ready, just a bit insecure, that's all. He _can_ be Dean's only light in the darkness, his anchor and paddle, his protector and (second) best friend. Because that's what his brother is for him too. Seth wants to be his lover, to wake up next to Dean again and see the sunlight dance over the other's face until it bothers him so much that he opens his eyes.

Seth wishes for a day he will lie in bed and it won't be too big for him alone – no matter how tiny it might be. For a moment he'll open the door of a hotel room and his brothers are already there, waiting for him, smiling and hugging Seth, making an oath to never let him go again.

He needs that one second in his life when everything goes back to normal. When the oppressive silence and darkness won't choke him anymore. When he'll stop staring at the walls, thinking about that awful moment when it all went wrong, when he fucked up one too many times.

Seth can't live without Dean, he's dead certain about that. And yet, he's afraid of what they could become, so he distances himself from his friend every time they're ready to take it to the next level. He has to stop this, sooner rather than later.

Dean can trust his words, his resolve, because Seth is willing to go the distance. It's just that he's a little bit fragile at the moment – his mind more than anything else –, so all he's asking of Dean is to take it slow.

It's a bit hypocritical, he knows, because he wouldn't have any objections against some mind-blowing sex, but as soon as it's about deep feelings and life-changing love confessions he's about to chicken out.

If he's gonna be defined by his actions, then so be it; he'll prove himself if Dean stays patient with him. Seth knows he's not a perfect human being, has hurt his family more than he can make it up to them, but he is right about this. Without Dean, there is no more hope, no reason for him to get up in the morning, no sense in life.

The lesson he's learned out of all of this is that when you can't walk, you go down on your knees and you start crawling. And if you're not even able to do that, to move just one more inch on your own, then you find someone who is willing to carry you.

If there is anyone in this world who would ditch everything to run to his side and pick him up, to carry him out of every possible misery, it's Dean.

He opens his mouth to say all of this, but not a single sound comes out. God, he's so pathetic. So instead of just outright telling his companion that he one day would love to have a bond with Dean that is indestructible – or at least can only be broken by death itself – he cups the other's face in his hands to check him for any injuries.

Because that undoubtedly incredible match with Cesaro must have left some marks on his skin and his Curb Stomps can leave his opponents with a concussion if he executes them the right way. Unfortunately, he has no recollection of his finishing move tonight, so he can't say if this one was particularly brutal or not.

But Dean won't have any of that, yanks himself free once again. Whatever transpired between them, whatever made Dean look at him as if he'd burst out with a heartfelt _I love you more than anything else in this entire world_ is gone now. It's like there suddenly is a wall of unbreakable ice separating them, and Seth knows for sure it's entirely his fault.

This turns into yet another frustrating situation that will keep him up at night.

'Look, I'm sorry for what I yelled out there,' he apologizes, unable to say anything of importance. If he can't find the right words to show Dean how much he needs him in his life yet, then he'll have to regroup and try again some other day. For now, all he can do is damage control.

'I guess I just blew a fuse. Are you okay?' Dean's lips twitch, but they won't bless Seth with a smile. Instead he gets an angry glare and a mocking, 'Does it look like I'm _okay_?' Judging by the intensity of those stormy blue eyes, Seth would rather say that his brother is about to squeeze the life out of him once again, this time fully intending on finishing what he started.

'No, you look as if you're about to fly off the handle. You want me to leave?' He's not asking to save his sorry ass. Right now, he couldn't care less about his well-being. Maybe he'd even feel good if Dean would attack him too, so they are even again. Nothing can ever make him forget this evening and how he lost control over everything.

'What?' Dean spits out, voice bitter and accusing. 'You tell me to die but are too afraid to deal with the repercussions? Don't give me yet another reason to believe you're a coward.' What a nice way to say _no, please, don't go; you might have scarred me forever but don't you dare leave me alone_.

Alrighty then, they're doing things the Dean Ambrose way. Honestly? Seth totally loves that. If only it wouldn't constantly confuse him so much. Okay, so he's not yet sick of seeing his face but Dean isn't overly fond of his presence right now either. Leaving isn't even an option but staying seems wrong too.

'What should I do then?' he asks hesitantly, squirming under Dean's fierce stare. His brother just draws up his eyebrows expectantly, making Seth realize that he has to understand this one on his own. Dean won't give him any tips on how he could fix this current situation.

It's vital for their future that Seth learns to stand on his own two feet once in a while.

Some higher power must have heard his internal pleas and prayers because both their phones beep at the same time and save Seth from having to come up with a solution.

Dean frowns at his cell and curiosity sparks up in Seth but he refrains from watching his brother's message to read his own. It's Roman once again, rescuing his baby brother just like in the good old times. He can always count on Rome to keep him out of harm's way.

_one more thing  
did you lick his hair_

What? Did the camera catch that one too? Seth can't recall much from that vicious attack, but he does remember sticking his tongue out and letting it graze over Dean's hair before he screamed at him to kick the bucket. It's a complete mystery to him why he did the thing. It felt kinda mandatory at the time to get a taste of his friend's wet hair.

He never insisted that all of his decisions are wise ones.

'You licked my head?' Dean asks, confusion and amusement fighting for dominance on his face, all ire suddenly gone.

'Oh God, he sent that to you too?' That traitor. Dean didn't know, and he would never have if it weren't for their big brother. Now he has to justify himself for yet another stupid course of action – and he doesn't even know how.

'Did you?' Dean presses on, a small smile dancing across his lips and the grumpy expression vanishes into thin air. 'You didn't feel it?' he asks back, feeling trapped in a corner he doesn't even want to get out of. Happy Dean is so much better than Angry Dean and Seth would lick that dirty blond hair for the rest of his life if it'll mean he gets to see the chipper one day in, day out.

'Sorry, no, my bad,' his brother counters, tone dark and rough, but there's still a mischievous spark in his eyes, telling Seth that Dean doesn't really mean it. 'I was concentrating on the pain in my back and shoulder and you screaming into my ear to stay the fuck down, to fucking _die_ already.'

He gets the feeling he should say something to defend himself, to soothe Dean's simmering anger, because he said and did some awful stuff out there and this is not how he wants his family to remember him. But Dean beats him to everything he might have replied.

'So you did insult and lick me at the same time. Some classy shit you pulled there, Rollins.'

Is that pride and maybe even a tiny hint of forgiveness he hears?

_No, I didn't!_

'I might have,' he confesses while sending the lie to Roman. If everyone could see it on television there is actually no use denying it, but he still wants to try and keep a part of his dignity, praying that his big brother won't call him out on it.

'You're so weird,' Dean laughs, absently rubbing with his flat hand over his chest and collarbone, the nicely ringing sound of it helping Seth to concentrate on their conversation again. Maybe if he tells his family about his current problems, they'll be able to help him. He shouldn't always try to sort things out on his own.

He wrings his hands and bites down hard on his bottom lip to stop himself from touching Dean. It's very tempting, especially because his brother stopped being pissed at him once again – seriously, Dean's mood changes faster than a chameleon its color – but it would distract him to a point he could only babble things like _your chest is so chiseled_ or _I wanna rub my cheeks against yours all day long, just to see who of us will get stubble burn first_.

He can do that once they have taken the next step towards a serious relationship. There is still plenty of time for him to embarrass himself with screwball stuff like that.

So instead of grabbing his friend by the wrists he fiddles with the hem of his gray shirt, gaze fixed on a point behind Dean while he squeezes the next words out in one quick breath, eager to get it all out before he chokes on it.

'I'm just a basket case these days because Cesaro wants to be Hunter's guy even though he already has a guy and I can't– Dean, I can't let him join but I also can't outright sabotage him. He's smarter than Randy. I don't know what to do and I snapped. I'm sorry; I manhandled you, totally lost it out there. Can you forgive me?'

He can see Dean furrowing his brows, which automatically draws his eyes back to his friend's face. 'Oh Seth, Seth,' his brother says, drawing out his name and making it sound like a reprimand. He can tell by the tone alone that this is not going to be something he will like to hear.

'You want my _forgiveness_? Fine, have it. Tuck yourself in bed with it. Spread it out on the sheets and roll around in it to your heart's desire. Breathe it in, get off on it, I don't fucking care.' Well, that was awesome. They should do this more often, it really helps calming the waves. Great bonding activity.

He can't help but huff a bit annoyed. Seth was trying to sincerely apologize for freaking out like that and all Dean does is make fun of him. He so doesn't need that tonight. Maybe he should go back to his dressing room and watch the end of Roman's match.

It certainly beats listening to Dean pulling his leg. He turns around, ready to leave his idiotic brother behind without a goodbye – _yeah, experience first hand how awful that feels, jerk_ – when warm fingers wrap themselves around his own. 'I can't forgive you.'

He's tired of always being the reasonable one, the one who backs down to end an argument. Just once, he wants to stomp off angrily like Dean or retreat back into himself for some Samoan time like Roman. Is it too much to ask to not be the rational one who says things like, 'I suppose it's just fair.'

Apparently, it is. He has accepted the role of the mediator a long time ago and that's what he'll always be. The guy in the middle, forced to sit on the fence for the rest of eternity.

Dean rolls his eyes at him, dragging him even deeper into the shadows, voice barely above an urgent whisper. 'No, you moron. I can't bless you with my condonation because I'm not mad,' his brother clarifies and Seth's whole train of thought comes to an abrupt halt. That's a joke, right? A cruel and totally unnecessary one at that.

Everyone would be enraged by Seth's action – hell, even _he_ is totally offended by what he did tonight and he wasn't even on the receiving end of those kicks and insults –, so why should Dean, of all people, claim he's totally cool with it?

Seth crosses his arms over his chest, clearly upset with the blatant lie his friend just threw at him and still very intend on leaving Dean behind if this taunting continues.

His brother seems to get the message because his body deflates a bit, shoulders sagging down. There is a small pained wince escaping Dean's lips before he uses his right hand to switch their positions, gently pushing Seth around and against the wall.

'I admit, it was a bit, you know, odd to hear you wishing for my death, but you had to do it. You already compared me to a cockroach that needs to be squashed, so I think even if you lost your marbles for a second, your mouth still knew what it was supposed to do.'

That really sounds a lot like Dean has never even thought about holding this against him. In his companion's mind it's crystal clear why Seth had to almost decapitate him. It's unbelievable how much luck Seth has with this man. Anyone with a different mindset would have dumped him immediately after arriving backstage, but Dean found an explanation that makes sense to him and with that he can live just fine.

He always knew that Dean Ambrose was the best and right choice.

'And it's nice to see how much my presence alone affects you, how much I'm still confusing you,' his friend grins at him, encouraging Seth to do the same. His lips won't stop twisting into the biggest, almost face-splitting smile that he has ever flashed at the other.

There's no need to answer, because he's pretty sure his expression says it all. How relieved he is that Dean is part of his life and not even mad at him for going crazy and taking all of his doubts and anger out on him in front of all those fans, and how much he loves Dean for being the awesome best friend he is.

His brother places a hand on the back of his skull and draws him into his personal space, hugging Seth close to his chest with just one arm. He can smell the typical stench of ointment and medical bandages, as well as dried sweat and the fading scent of Dean's fragrance.

It's a bizarre mixture of an aroma that reminds him of safety and their shared past. Of too small hotel rooms and tiny rental cars, pizza parlors, their title polishing sessions and little brawls for the remote, of cuddling with Rome in bed every night. All in all, it just makes him really sad because it too is showing him what he misses out on ever since he committed treason.

Dean won't let go of him though, keeps him close to his heart and Seth rests his forehead on his brother's uninjured shoulder, breathing in the mixture of old memories and deep-rooted affection, perfectly content with their positions. He could stay like this for the rest of their lives.

His brother grants him a few seconds – or minutes, Seth can't really tell; he's too lost in the moment – before Dean chuckles lightly into his ear, cheek pressing Seth's head gently against his throat, so he can't escape.

'You know Ro is gonna get mad at you for trying to hump me in the ring.' He snorts, fingers trying to get a hold of something, so they caress Dean's abs before they move down to awkwardly fidget around with the silver rings of Dean's belt.

'I didn't,' he tries to object but cuts himself off almost immediately. He can say whatever he wants, there's no way he can ever erase the shit-eating grin taking over his friend's face. He can feel it at the back of his head and closes his eyes to imagine it in all its glory.

And because it really doesn't matter anyway, he adds jokingly, 'What can I say, you turn me on.' It may be a little bit desperate, but it feels so nice to be held by his brother while playing with the hem of the other's jeans and belt that he wants this moment to last forever.

He must have done something right with that half-assed one-liner because Dean just traps his body between himself and the wall, somehow managing to move up his aching arm to put his left hand on Seth's throat, lifting his head in the process, so Dean can look him in the eyes when he whispers with a raspy voice, 'Shh, stop talking.'

His brother starts nibbling at his neck and Seth's knee give way dangerously, while his eyes take a quick look to the side to ensure they're completely alone and a strange sound – something between a high-pitched whine and a groan – escapes his lips. This is a highly dangerous stunt they're pulling here and they shouldn't–

 _Fuck_. Okay, maybe they have like two minutes.

God, if Dean doesn't give a crap and continues to plant soft kisses on his oversensitive neck, then why should he?

Seth takes matters in his hands, quite literally, and forces Dean with his nose to turn his head around a bit, so he can steal a real kiss. It's surprisingly a chaste one, which is so not satisfying at all. Seth is like a bloodhound. Once he gets the taste of something good, he wants more.

So he dashes forward, capturing Dean's lips with his, gently forcing them open to finally, _finally_ get access to the warm heaven that lies beneath. His fingers move on their own accord, fumbling with the stupid belt until they're able to unbuckle it.

The moment Dean realizes that Seth has just opened his fly, he uses his hips to stop Seth's movements – which might not be the best decision Dean has ever made because now their bodies are pressed against each other from the waist down and it's really hard to hide an arousal in a position like this.

Distantly, in a very far away corner of his mind, Seth wonders how far this will go, even though Dean just made a move that could be seen as _don't you fucking dare using your magic fingers in a shady place like this_ or _this is my yard, we're gonna play by my rules, bitch_.

Because not so long ago his brother slapped him in the face with those stinging words after getting the wrong idea about him and Kane. But Seth got the message that was hiding underneath all that hateful stuff. Basically, Dean promised him that there wouldn't be any intimacy as long as Dean doesn't know for sure that Seth won't get cold feet again.

If his mouth wouldn't be so preoccupied with chasing after Dean's lips whenever his brother breaks a kiss, he'd probably ask if Dean has come to a definite decision yet or if this little thing right now is just happening in the heat of the moment; probably all because Seth did crawl on top of his friend in the ring tonight totally on purpose and it turned both of them on.

But even in the peaceful moments – when the tips of their noses touch and they're panting slightly into each other's mouths, hot breath on his skin making Seth shudder in the most pleasant way – he can't force himself to break the silence with a question that might not only ruin this here but also all the things they've accomplished so far.

So, he just throws caution in the wind and lets Dean take over the wheel. That way, no one can blame him for going too far or not far enough or taking things too fast instead of way too slow. He'll just do what he does best and that is trust Dean and his own heart.

His friend's hands seem to be everywhere at the same time, running up and down his torso, the sensation so electrifying that for a second he's convinced his skin is on fire, burning him without actually hurting. He can hear a ripping sound and instantly panics, thinking he just tore his awfully expensive pants. But then he sees something gray falling down to the ground, fingers playing around with his chest hair a heartbeat later and he knows Dean just slashed his Authority shirt.

When Dean smiles dotingly against his lips Seth's brain practically explodes, leaving him completely helpless what to do or say, other than returning the favor by murmuring, 'I love you.'

Dean's whole body freezes but there is nothing Seth can do about it because at that moment someone clobbers both of them over the head, crudely interrupting their rare cozy time together.

In hindsight, he has to admit it's their luck that the person he wants to brutally murder right now is Roman, standing before them with the most intense scowl darkening his features, all sweaty and oily and ready to punch them some more for being so stupid and reckless.

'I'm so tired of your bullshit,' their brother sighs, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and yanking him away from Seth. There's a second whine echoing in the barely lit hallway and Seth feels so cold all of a sudden, bereft of Dean's body heat.

Whatever complaint he wanted to hiss at his big brother, it dies on his tongue when Roman shakes his head a bit disappointed and pinches the bridge of his nose. 'Guys, I get it, mutual attraction and all that. _I_ can see it, the world can definitely see it and, I mean, I can almost _smell_ your neediness– oh, for God's sake, Dean, put your pants back on.'

Seth snickers when he realizes that his friend's jeans got pushed down to his ankles somewhere along the way. 'You, quiet,' Roman seethes, kneeling down to pick up the torn pieces of his shirt before he smacks them against his chest. 'This is, I can't even believe how stupid the two of you– playing with fire and, God, I should just make signs for everyone in the goddamn arena to follow them here if they want to see something _not_ funny.'

Dean flashes Seth a toothy grin and fucking winks at him, as if that had been his plan all along. Because angering the growly alpha wolf is the best idea in the world.

'We're leaving and you,' Roman grits out, pointing accusingly at Seth, 'should go too. And take care of that unfinished business. What are you, horny little teenagers?' He needs a moment to understand that his brother doesn't mean Dean thwarting Hunter's plans but the erection in his leather pants.

He holds up his thumbs smiling bashfully, making Dean laugh out really loud, while Roman just rubs over his eyes tiredly. He pushes Dean away from Seth as soon as he's properly dressed again and turns around one last time to stare Seth down, just to hug him close and whisper in his ear, 'Don't make me worry about your frame of mind too.'

Oh right, there had been a reason why Seth tried to find his family a while ago. He nods reassuringly and puts the shredded shirt back on. Actually, now it's a nice vest.

Dean waves a bit awkwardly and walks away from him, always staying close to Roman and bumping into him with his good shoulder. The last thing Seth hears – his family has already rounded the corner – is, 'I hope you feel horrible because you just cockblocked me.'

The roaring laughter of both his brothers seems to echo through the whole arena, following him even into the changing room, giving him the strength he needs to face the last members of the Authority still occupying the room. They do notice his _little problem_ as well as his ripped shirt but are nice enough to not comment on it.

Their amused side glances are punishment enough.


End file.
